Chapter 33
33
F ROM THE TOP step of the lodestone chamber, Graylin stabbed at the face of a massive bat, a male twice the size of an ox. Jaws snapped wildly at his blade, trying to rip it away. Poison slathered those lips and dripped from his sword. Wings beat at the opening. Claws dug with a furious savagery, tearing through the soft sandstone as the beast tried to dig its way inside.
It screamed all the while, determined to drive him into submission. Even with the protection offered here, the bridle-song was a gale in his face. His vision blurred under the assault. His aim wavered.
A shout burst behind him. “Move!”
Exhausted and addled, he fell back. Jace rushed forward and swung his ax with great force. Steel cleaved the air and struck the bat between the eyes. The ax-head cracked deep into its skull. The beast reared back, dragging the weapon and Jace with it.
Fenn rushed up and hugged his friend’s legs. The navigator pulled Jace back, forcing him to relinquish his ax. They both tumbled down the steps, tangled together, into the deeper safety of the stone chamber.
Not that anywhere was truly safe in this village.
Graylin watched the massive bat flop and writhe in death, the ax still imbedded in its skull—then it lay still, its dreadful keening silenced.
And not just the beast.
Past its bulk, the screams of the dying had ebbed to moans. Only a few stands of guardsmen still fought on the plaza. Bodies sprawled everywhere, soaking the sands black with blood.
Still, a cauldron of bats churned above.
Jace regained his feet and lunged toward the doorway with an arm outstretched, looking ready to rush out and retrieve his precious ax—but that was not his intent.
“Look!” he gasped.
Graylin turned and followed where he pointed. Across the plaza, two small shapes stumbled into view. Nyx and Daal. They leaned on each other and waded into the carnage. A bat swept at them. Nyx thrust a hand high and sent it cartwheeling away. Still, she stumbled, weakening. Daal carried her under one arm, a steel trident high in the other.
They would not make it far on their own.
Jace cupped his mouth. “Nyx! Over here!”
His yell was deafened by a cannon blast from the Sparrowhawk, where someone was still fighting out on the water.
By now, Meryk and Floraan had spotted their son, too. Their relief was tempered by fear, and not just for Daal.
“Where’s Henna?” Floraan whispered, clutching hard to her husband.
Graylin firmed his grip on Heartsthorn, clearheaded enough to know what he had to do. Without a word, he dashed up the stairs and out into the plaza. After only a few steps, that sharp-edged barrage ate into his skull. Wincing against it, refusing to relent, he ran onward. He reached his target—not Nyx, but a fallen guardsman.
Graylin slid on his knees through the bloody sand. He dropped his sword and clawed the helm from the dead man’s head. He struggled to don it, his limbs shaking, his vision blurring. He finally yanked it into place. Scrabbling, he palmed the lodestone shells over his ears and pressed them there. The world immediately went muffled.
Still, the keening pierced the helm. It felt like needles digging into his scalp and skull, but it could go no deeper. Graylin hunched over his knees for two breaths to regain his senses.
He heard Jace yell. Graylin could not make out his words, only the urgency and terror. He looked over at Nyx and Daal. The pair had stopped near the center of the plaza, driven also to their knees.
Bats dove at them. Nyx’s one arm tremored high, trying to hold them at bay. Two landed in the sand, claws digging, balancing on their wingtips, ready to charge. Daal swept his spear with a flash of steel, trying to guard against both.
Graylin pushed to his feet, grabbed his sword, and sprinted toward them.
Daal stabbed at one of the bats, slicing through an ear, grazing a cut down its neck. The other bat, small and cunning, raced on wingtips and claws, charging low toward them.
Graylin’s heart knotted in his throat. He would not make it there in time. He skidded, snatched a bloody spear from the sand with his free hand, and whipped it toward the charging bat.
It struck a wing and tore through it. The blow was not enough to kill it, but it did drive it aside, twisting it around. Black eyes fixed upon its attacker, lips curling from poisoned fangs.
Graylin didn’t slow, rushing straight at it.
Still, more bats descended, landing all around. Others beat the air overhead, struggling to get to Nyx, blowing a whirlwind of stinging sand.
Carrying Heartsthorn low and wide, Graylin raced at the beast. As jaws snapped at him, he spun aside and swept his sword high. The blade cleaved through the monster’s throat, hewing through bone and sinew. Its head flew and bounced across the sand.
Graylin ducked under a flailing wing to reach Nyx and Daal. His arrival scattered the nearest attackers. They surely scented the fresh kill and were now wary of the newcomer.
Nyx stared wide-eyed at him.
Daal glanced over a shoulder, keeping his trident up.
Graylin pointed toward the shelter, where Jace stood in the doorway. “That way!”
Nyx shook her head, her face pale, running with sweat. She gasped, “Someone’s coming…”
Graylin didn’t understand. He searched around, sweeping his sword.
After the brief hesitation, the horde regathered its nerve. The black storm descended toward them.
Graylin clenched his jaws, ready to defend Nyx with his last breath. From Daal’s tight-lipped expression, he was determined to do the same.
Between them, Nyx struggled to her feet and stared toward the sea.
“She’s here…”
N YX WATCHED A sun rise out of the sea, its golden sheen spreading across the waves. Daal witnessed it, too, gasping in awe. She took his hand and felt the font of his energy stir inside him, responding to the song out there.
Across the sand, Shiya climbed radiant and bright out of the surf and waded to shore. Her face was a mask of fury, her eyes fiery. She sang out like a struck bell, ringing loud and strong.
The bats overhead scattered away.
Those on the ground scrabbled from her path.
She strode swiftly toward Nyx and the others, an unstoppable force.
Moments ago, as soon as Nyx and Daal had entered the plaza, she had sensed Shiya’s approach through the sea. Maybe even before that. It had drawn her onward. Through the bloodshed, past the carnage, under those black wings. Nyx didn’t know how the bronze woman had come to be here, only that she was. Shiya was a promise of water in a dry desert.
As the bronze woman joined them, Nyx basked in that bridling glow. She let it warm through her, sharing it with Daal via their grasped hands. She closed her eyes, breathing in that power until she found her voice. She opened her throat and heart and added her harmony to Shiya’s strength.
The sun around them blasted wider, shining more brilliantly.
The raash’ke screamed and fled from that sudden blaze. It must’ve been too much, too startling, too frightening. The horde spun and beat and clawed their way into the mists, seeking the blessed darkness of the icy world above. She watched until the skies cleared, and that malignant keening fell mercifully silent.
Only then did Nyx sag again to the sand.
It’s over.
Still, she stared at the wreckage, the bodies, the ruins around her. She felt no happiness, no glory, only relief.
She could also not shake a deep-seated worry. She remembered the strength of that horde-mind. After her first brush with it during the rescue of Henna, it had never struck at her again with such force. Perhaps it was cautious after her fiery assault. She could still smell the bat’s charred heart, feel the flames burning through her. She shied from that memory, ashamed at what she had done to Daal, but also unable to deny a longing ache in her bones to wield that power again.
Yet, that act was likely the only reason she and Daal had made it this far. It had driven the horde-mind into the shadows, leaving the raash’ke with little guidance, allowing her meager reserves of power to forge a path to the plaza.
A voice called to her, full of joy that felt misplaced here. “Nyx!”
She turned to see Jace running toward her, followed by a limping Fenn. As the pair reached her, they drew her into a large embrace. Others began to crawl out of hiding, rising from nooks and cubbies. The town stirred forth all around, recognizing the threat was over.
At least for now.
Daal’s mother and father rushed to them. Floraan clasped her son’s arm. “Henna?”
Daal wiped blood from his brow. “Safe.”
Floraan sobbed in relief. Her husband hugged them both tightly.
Graylin kept close. Shiya shadowed their group and continued to glow, though the intensity of her song had ebbed. Still, she maintained a steady hum, like a flashburn forge waiting to be reignited if needed.
Across the square, faces stared toward them, some in horror, others in awe. The Reef Farer and his family gathered at the edge, wary but knowing the newcomers had likely saved Iskar—even if the horde had been lured down here by the crashing of their swyftship.
A harsh shout echoed from the Sparrowhawk. She could not make out the words, but she knew who called to them.
Darant had clearly survived, but how many of his crew?
Graylin waved an arm, letting the brigand know they were safe for the moment.
As the townspeople gathered at the fringes of the plaza, Nyx made a silent promise to them.
We will protect you for as long as we can.
Still, she pictured her group’s ultimate goal—to set the Urth to spinning and melting this world—and added a harsher truth.
But in the end, we may destroy you.